Merits
by SuperGlueSensation
Summary: I was stuck wishing I had a chance to prove to him that, if this was some sort of Saturday morning cartoon, I would be suitable material to be like, his side kick or something. I wished that I had the chance to show that I had what it took. But the crime fighting was over. Well, until a few days ago... K2, KennyxKyle
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.**

**This is an attempt at an action kind of thing. I don't know if it is going to turn out well at all. It's cool in my head, but that does not mean it will transfer over right! And also, this story is going to have KennyxKyle in it. So if you are not a fan of that, you may want to skidaddle on over to another story.  
**

"_I think you're the smartest kid in class_."

Those were the words that started it all. Mysterion had intrigued the whole town. It's not that it takes anything big to get the attention of the South Park citizens, but it's pretty rare that the thing is something good. Normally it is something ridiculous like... I don't know. War with Canada or nukes. Maybe that is why I followed the Mysterion story as closely as I did. It was totally different than anything else I'd experienced in my short life. When I found out that the source of all that intrigue was one of my best friends, I was floored.

Cartman had started some super hero bull shit too. The Coon. It was a joke, just a temporary flash of interest probably inspired by some comic book or some attempt to rip on me about something. Seriously! Cartman goes out of his way to do things for the sole purpose of ripping on me. Eventually, all of us got in on it. I picked out some dorky super hero identity, the Human Kite. My imaginary powers were to fly and shoot laser beams out of my eyes.

None of that crap ever matched up to that one night Mysterion had come to my room to ask me to do something for him. It didn't take much effort, but I was able to help Mysterion. That was really cool. After that, I started playing around on the computer even more. I did more and more to figure out tricks on how to hack into databases and alter information and track this that or the other. I did that all for the off chance that Mysterion would come back and ask for help again. I wanted to prove that I was good for more than Google searching a few things.

It's not that I am not athletic. I'm good at sports, especially basketball. Sure, Stan takes the front seat when it comes to things like baseball and football, but that doesn't mean I suck at them. I'm probably not the greatest at fighting. The only experience I got was fighting with Cartman, and that doesn't count much. I kind of think of myself as being stuck as one of those guys that would be more useful behind the scenes than on the front line.

Anyway, after a while, all of that super hero stuff kind of faded away. I never asked Kenny about it. I didn't really know how to bring the topic up. "Hey buddy! Why aren't you out there risking your life to help stop a robbery or two in this shit hole of a town?" Something about that just didn't sound right with me. I'd rather have my friend safe and in one piece than gallivanting around the city any day.

So I was stuck wishing I had a chance to prove to him that, if this was some sort of Saturday morning cartoon, I would be suitable material to be like, his side kick or something. I think that, if he had a choice, he'd probably wind up picking Stan. I mean, I can't blame him. Stan has shaped up to be a guy you wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of! Nicest and most popular guy around and most likely to totally kick your ass if you screw over him or one of his friends. As for me? I'm probably still the guy who's only good for Google searching some crap. Still, I wished that I had the chance to show that I had merit too. Every so often, that thought would bug me. But the crime fighting was over.

Well, until a few days ago...

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I sat at my desk, head propped on one of my hands as I scrolled through some lame ass article comparing Roman infrastructure to its Greek counterpart.

"Damn Cartman!" I groaned and shut my eyes. If it wasn't for the fatass, I'd be doing a research paper on... I don't know what, but it wouldn't have been something as dry as the sewage systems of ancient countries! "I bet his fat ass could clog an aqueduct." I smirked to myself then heard laughter from behind me. I jumped up, nearly knocking the chair over in the process. "Who's there?"

"Relax." A faux voice spoke, its low and raspy quality ringing familiar. I blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the change of light between my bright screen and the dark room and window I tried to make sense of. It took a while to find the source of the voice, perched on my bed.

"Kenny?" Disbelief swallowed my voice.

"I need you to look something up for me." The more he spoke, the more I realized that it really was Kenny, and he was decked out in his Mysterion costume.

"Uh, sure. What is it?" I stepped back to my desk, not wanting to take my eyes off him. He started to explain how a convict had broken loose and was believed to be en route to South Park. I kept the worry from my face the best that I could as he asked me to find records on the guy.

"I want to know what we're dealing with." He concluded. Before he'd finished, I was already at work. I'd tried similar things out many times before. I knew exactly how to do it. In less than five minutes, I had articles from news sources about his initial arrest as well as the prison records analyzing his behavior.

"Um... Arrested for multiple murders," I clicked onto an article breaking down the condition of the bodies found. "Modus operandi appears to be decapitation," I read through the victim list to check the ages. "Primarily teenage girls."

"Fucking sicko." Mysterion was behind me then. The only thing that gave that away was the feeling of his hands clenching around the back of my chair, a habit I'd noticed he expressed when angry or upset.

"According to the psychiatric records, he has shown no signs of remorse and has been known to make jokes about his victims. 'Rehabilitation is our hope' but basically they still haven't found a way to get through to him. Looks like he's pretty dangerous." I turned away from the screen again.

"Thanks, Kyle." He was already walking toward the window by the time I turned around.

"Wait! You're not going to like... go after him yourself, are you?" I rose and followed after him.

"I have no choice. The fucking cops won't listen. Cartman made sure of that with his fucking Coon bull shit." He stepped one foot up on to the ledge.

"Kenny, I-"

"Hey, I'm a super hero, remember? When I'm wearing this, I'm Mysterion. You don't want to put me in danger, do you?" He wore a jeering grin.

"Of course not!" I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest. He didn't seem to be afraid at all. "Fine then, Mysterion, you can't do this."

"Why not?"

"It's dangerous. You could get killed."

"Come on, Kyle. I don't have time for this right now. It's a Saturday night. If he gets here before I find him, he could hurt a lot of people."

"How do you know he is coming here? Why would he escape to South Park of all places?" I admitted to myself that I was trying to stall him. Mysterion or not, I did not like the idea of him facing off against some psycho.

"Pure fucking luck. Officer dumbass left his radio at Harbucks. You remember showing me how to fuck around with the stations?"

"Yeah."

"I didn't remember how to do any of that shit, but I managed to flip it onto something and some broad was shouting about this convict to a co-worker. She gave out all the details of his escape and the route she expected him to be on. He's going to be here within the hour. I have to go now."

"How do you know where you'll find him?"

"Classic fucking freaky white van."

"But-"

"No more questions. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow."

"Kenny-"

"Mysterion."

"Mysterion, please." I grabbed him by the arm. A look mixed between annoyance and curiosity spread across his face. "Just call the police. Have them deal with it."

"You know how competent those assholes are."

"Then at least let me go with you." Mysterion's expression was nothing but pure shock. After a few seconds, he smirked and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Looks like you've left me with no other choice, huh?" He sighed after speaking. It seemed a bit too dramatic to be real, but I was too busy bracing myself to face down a convicted criminal to pay it much mind. I watched as he took something out of a pocket. He took a box of matches out of another hidden pocket.

"What's that?" I leaned in.

"Remember that thing you told me about how to make home-made smoke bombs?"

"Yeah." I answered warily.

"And then you started talking all this fucking sci-fi shit about knock out gas and how to make that?"

"Mysterion-" He only grinned and lit the thing with a match. "Hey!" He pushed me backwards. I tripped over what I assumed was my backpack. By the time I'd stumbled to my feet, the room was filled with a thick gas. It was working fast too. I was already having trouble keeping my eyes open with the fog stinging my eyes, but I was fading fast. I knew if I could make it to the window, I'd be fine. The gas would disperse fast enough. By the time I found the window, it was too late. Mysterion had shut the window behind him. I couldn't find the latch in time. Though the fog had already cleared up, I was out. My last thought was a confused thought between wanting to punch Kenny and fearing that he'd be killed.

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"Kyle." I woke partly due to the sound of my name and mostly due to the fact that I was being shaken so hard that I thought my head would fall off.

"What the hell!" I pulled back, having forgotten the earlier events in the temporary blur of having-just-woken-up. I grumbled and rubbed my eyes, expecting the intruder to be Ike. When I opened my eyes, the events of the night all flooded back to me. In front of me was Mysterion. "You're back!" I sat up on my knees, trying to take in everything I could in the shortest amount of time possible.

"Oh good, you're up!" His voice was unusually cheerful.

"What happened?" I was thrilled to see him. Until I remembered that he'd managed some sort of God damned sleeping potion and knocked me out. I punched him in the arm. "Never do that again!" He only laughed.

"You should've seen the look on his fucking face when I grabbed him out of that fucking van!" Kenny grinned from ear to ear. "And when I dragged his ass to the police station, the cops were dragging their tails between their legs. Telling me not to fucking play around. Look who stopped a total psycho from slaughtering all the girls in town."

"That is just..." I was unable to finish my sentence. I noticed blood seeping through the mask he wore. He noticed my expression and tried to defuse the situation before I could do anything. "No." I cut him off and turned to grab a box from under my bed. Normally it was just a bunch of stuff I brought with to Ike's hockey games.

"It's really not anything." He sounded almost bashful. When I took his mask off, I saw that he wasn't lying entirely. It was bleeding a lot, but it wasn't anything deep.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" I asked as I finished cleaning it and sticking a band-aid over it. "Hard to believe that you went against a serial killer and only walked away with a black eye."

"I was prepared. He wasn't." Kenny felt his face with his hand. "Thanks." We both sat in silence for a while.

"So... You're going to be a hero again?"

"This town can't hold its fucking self together without me." He grinned. I couldn't help but smile too.

"Kyle!" Before I could say anything else, my mom's voice interrupted us.

"Looks like that's my cue to go." Kenny rose to his feet with ease and put his mask back on. "See you tomorrow."

"Right. I'd better hear from you by ten tomorrow or I'm going to send out a search party."

"I got it, I got it." He stepped up onto Oh, and one more thing."

"Yeah?"

"You might want to start locking your windows. I don't want to wind up having to save you." He dropped out of sight just as my door opened and my mom came in.

"You are home! Isn't that fantastic."

"How come?"

"I just saw the most terrible thing on the news! There was a murderer here! Here in South Park!" When my mother had finished proposing her idea to protest against the prison system for allowing prisoners to escape, she left.

And that was it. Mysterion was back. He asked for my help again. And I still had yet to prove that I could do more than look up a few bits of information.

"God damnit!"

**A/N: I have mixed feelings on this chapter, but I am going to post it anyway. Feedback is much appreciated! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: So I think I deleted the actual chapter 2. That or I started writing it and never finished it. Either way, it has been so long since I have worked on this thing that I do not mind writing it again. Sorry for keeping you all waiting. I'm going to try to be better about getting updates to you now that summer is here and I am back on my SP kick.**

**I own nothing. **

"I don't know about you guys, but I am pretty sick of having to sit around and do nothing when people like that are walking around out there." Stan's voice was the first one I heard on entering the classroom. There was no doubt about it. Word of the capture had spread fast. "Dude, Kyle!" Stan lifted a hand to motion me over.

"What's up?" I shoved his backpack out of the chair and took a seat.

"You saw the news, right?" He asked. The small crowd that sat around him stayed quiet, patiently waiting for him to return to what was probably going to be a call for some public service political activeness idea.

"Um-"

"Man! I feel like I was just talking about needing some sort of, I don't know, community watch kind of thing. Except more intense." He fumbled for words a bit but continued without hesitation about the need for people to be more involved in the safety of their community.

"You're such a Goddamn dumbass." Cartman slapped his hand on the desk. "You seriously think some gay as fuck community watch is going to keep these asswads out of here?"

"Well I don't see you offering any better solutions." It was almost like it was on cue. At that moment, Kenny dragged himself through the door and yawned all the way to his desk. I waved and he nodded once in acknowledgment. "If an off duty officer hadn't been there, we'd be screwed."

"What? An off duty police officer? But I heard that-"

"Yeah yeah, it might have been a detective. Whatever." Stan was too engrossed in his budding argument with Cartman to notice my near slip up.

"Hey dude." Kenny tapped me on the shoulder once.

"Hey." I turned around faster than I probably needed to, but I couldn't help it. I was glad to see he hadn't gotten in to any trouble, that he was at school, and that he was talking to me. Just seeing him brought back every ounce of desire to try to prove to him that I was an asset.

"This is going to sound really fucking lame, but I totally shat out when I got home. I didn't touch my homework and-"

"Here!" I pulled my notebook from my backpack, turned to the right page, and practically shoved it into his hands. "It's the uh, math."

"You sure, man?" He eyed the work and muttered under his breath. "The hell is this shit? Fuck."

"Yeah. It's totally cool." I refrained from making any comments on the contents of the assignment.

"What the world needs is the Coon." Cartman's idiotic comment diverted my attention.

"Oh lord! Don't start that crap again." I rolled my eyes. Kenny had busied himself with copying down the answers, but it was clear that he was still listening.

"Crap? Crap? Oh see here, Kyle. The Coon wasn't crap. I just didn't- I mean, _he_ just didn't have the right supplies or skills back then. Now, things would be totally different."

"Yeah, I believe that. It would still be the same fatass running around making an ass of himself and only ever bothering to show up where there'd be some publicity."

"Hey!" Cartman jumped to his feet. "You got something to say to me, Jew boy?"

"Wait wait." Stan put his hands up. "I think Cartman might be on to something."

"Seriously?" I asked. Astonishment was clear in my voice.

"Yeah. I mean, what we need is a person or a group of people who are prepared and ready to take someone down. We nearly got caught in a lot of shit because no one was ready to deal with any threat."

"That's what we have the police for. Besides, it just wouldn't be safe to have a bunch of vigilantes running around putting themselves in danger." The last thing I wanted was to see one of my friends in danger. Still, part of me resented Stan for presenting the idea so logically. Again, I was reminded of my thoughts that, if any of us were going to be of use to Mysterion, it would be Stan.

"Come on, dude. Think about it! It'd be totally awesome. Imagine being able to stop someone from getting mugged or hurt or something. It'd be great!"

"And imagine getting a gun jammed in your face. What would you do then?" I shot back. Stan rolled his eyes.

"Awww. The little Jew rat's afraid."

"I am not!"

"I think it's a great idea." Kenny chimed in.

"You do?"

"Totally, dude. We could get the girls to dress up in the Wonderwoman and Batgirl and other costumes. That'd be fucking hot as hell."

"What?" Stan cocked his head to the side and made a face.

"Superhero chicks always have the best tits too."

"Kenny, I think you're missing the point here..." Stan shifted his weight uncomfortably. Wendy's face turned bright red.

"You misogynistic asshole! How could you say that? Women do not need to be degraded by wearing those completely useless outfits just so you men can get the satisfaction of... of... of fetishizing a woman that fights crime! There are thousands of female police officers and firefighters out there doing just as good as any man."

"Guys, this isn't about women's rights. It's about public safety and-"

"This is a perfect example of women's rights, Stan. Every time something like this comes up, all guys think about is women wearing slinky costumes. It's always the men that get to save the day and the women are just the crafty... not even side kicks! They are there for fanservice." Wendy continued on her rampage. I sat back, completely amazed by Kenny's ability to change the topic of the conversation. When he returned to writing out the math assignment, I decided to join in on the debate.

"I think Wendy's right. I mean, girls totally get shorted when it comes to being considered strong. If there was some sort of program that could teach girls to fight, it wouldn't be as big of a deal."

"Kyle's right! Boys get to learn how to fight because their dads teach them or they spend so much time beating each other up that it comes like second nature. Girls have to do things like take piano and ballet. I think what we need is an organization that can show just how strong girls are!"

"Maybe there should be something like that for everyone. I mean, think about it. If everyone is able to defend themselves, there isn't any need for any group of people scouring around looking for crime to stop."

"I guess you're right..." Wendy looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Okay guys! Let's start planning this thing." Stan clapped his hands together. The group started planning out who they would invite to teach, where the meetings would be, and other technical things up until the teacher came in.

"Hand in your assignment, class." Ms. Edwards placed a plastic basket labeled "homework" on the front of her desk. "And let's get started. Today we'll be pushing forward in the fascinating world of trigonometry." Kenny slipped my notebook under my arm as he walked to the front of the room.

"You're a life saver." He mouthed the words as he passed by.

Classes went on without any real event. I took notes. Stan and Wendy passed notes. Kenny passed out on his desk, arms folded shamelessly into a makeshift pillow up until the bell rang for lunch.

"I expect to see your worksheet packet finished and turned in by tomorrow morning. Have a nice afternoon." Ms. Edwards concluded as she erased the board.

"It's about time!" Stan stretched his arms over his head and yawned as he walked into the hallway. "I thought that class would never end. What about you?"

"You know, if you spent more time paying attention to Ms. Edwards and less time texting back and forth with Wendy, I bet you'd be doing a lot better in that class." I shoved him. He shoved me back and we laughed.

"That's what I've got you around for. Man! I can't believe she's expecting that whole damn packet turned in tomorrow. It's like, twenty pages."

"If you can't finish it, just say Cartman ate it."

"Hey!" Cartman threw a punch my way. I stepped aside pretty easily. "You want to say that again?"

"Give me ten bucks and I'll eat it." Kenny threw an arm around Stan's shoulder. "Just name the place."

"Dude!"

"The recent outbreak of crime in the Colorado area is in no small part due to the rising controversy surrounding the police department. It can be seen that, since the mayor was elected, crime rates have risen exponentially." The news reporter was muted by the all mighty remote control.

"Isn't that just terrible?" My mom shook her head, still reading the captions beneath the reporter even though she'd been the one to turn the volume off.

"It sure is." My dad agreed, more focused on the paperwork for his next case than on the TV.

I excused myself and left for my room.

"This blows." I muttered to myself and shut the door behind me. I dropped on to my bed and sighed into the emptiness of my room. It had been three weeks since Mysterion had come back. He hadn't asked for my help since the first night. Judging by the number of times Kenny asked for my homework, I knew Mysterion probably went out every night. Crimes were soaring in the nearby areas. Every time I heard a story about someone getting killed trying to help, I cringed. "You picked a great time to get back in to this, Kenny."

"I was thinking the same thing." The familiar voice jarred me so badly that I screamed. He just laughed.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. I sat up, breathless.

"I need your help." Mysterion sat on the end of my bed.

"With what?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound as eager in his ears as I did in mine.

"Tonight there is going to be a big as fuck drug deal outside Bennigan's. What time does the restaurant close?" I did my best to hide my disappointment. He had seriously come all this way to ask me for the hours of the restaurant.

"I'll check." I pulled up a browser on my phone and typed in the restaurant. "It closes at ten."

"Good. They won't be there until three." He raised a fist to his mouth and fell silent. "Okay, I-" I grabbed his arm before he could stand.

"I am not letting you go alone."

"That's what I was going to ask you about." With no trouble, he removed my hand from his arm. While still holding my hand, he spoke. "There's no way in hell I can pull this one off on my own." His voice was dead serious. "You're the only one I trust with this. I don't want to drag you in to this, but I swear it will be safe. If you're worried, I can just get the police to go over there instead. It might be better if-"

"Just let me know what you need me to do." I could tell from his expression that my smile bothered him. "I'm not scared at all." He sighed and let go of my hand.

"I guess that's a good thing for now." The volume of the conversation between my mother and father rose significantly. Mysterion took that moment to lean in close and whisper the details of the case to me. The guy we were after was the head of a drug ring in Denver. This was the night he was meeting with his dealers. Mysterion wanted to get him alone before he got to the others. "So you're going to play decoy. Are you still sure you're okay with this?"

"Totally." I hid the fact that I'd turned pale as my sheets by getting up to grab my shoes. "So how is this going to work?"

"Well..."

**A/N: Sorry to leave you guys on a cliffhanger. I know. I'm a total dickwad. I will have the new chapter up relatively soon, though. I am looking forward to writing it.**

**Sorry if this chapter totally sucked! It had no action and no real purpose. I am rusty. I hope it was still somewhat enjoyable. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I want to start off by saying that I apologize for the inaccuracies in this upcoming scene. I could say 'oooh well I don't have experience in this' but that would just be me trying to justify not doing a lick of research. Oops. My bad!**

**I hope that you guys enjoy the chapter. It's mega short, but... Well at least this one didn't take more than a month to get up, right? Haha... Ha... scuttles back beneath the refrigerator**

**I do not own South Park or any characters. **

"I can't believe I'm doing this." I repeated this again and again until it had become a sort of mantra. I wrapped the unfamiliar scarf tighter around my mouth and nose. The air was frigid, even for a Colorado night. I kept my eyes on the ground, counting down the steps until I was directly outside Bennigan's. At the sound of footsteps, I took in a deep breath and lifted my head.

"Who the fuck are you?" A gruff voice muffled by a heavily concealing hood was the cue to begin the act created by the one and only person I would ever be dumb enough to listen to.

"I... um..." I swallowed hard, unable to find my voice.

"I um um um." He walked toward me, chest puffed out. When he bumped into me, I jumped back and put my hands up. My sudden movement spurred him to pull out a gun. I saw colors in front of my eyes, but it wasn't because I'd been shot. It was just my life flashing before my eyes because I was going to be shot. This was not in the script. "Spit it out, kid."

"I'm not from around here-"

"Did I ask your life story?"

"N-no. I just... It's just that I was wondering if... not that you look like a guy who would know this kind of thing, but-"

"You better talk fast, boy, or you're going to be spilling your guts in a whole nother way."

"I'm sorry! I wanted to know if you knew where I could buy... things... um, illegally."

"What?"

"I don't really know how much this kind of stuff costs, but I brought three hundred dollars." I took three hundred dollar bills from my borrowed coat's pocket.

"What kind of 'stuff' are you looking to buy?"

"Heroin." I answered quickly, gripping the money tight in my hand.

"And you don't know how much it costs?"

"No." I bit my lip. I wanted to puke. He stared at me, unmoving. With the gun still in his hand, he grabbed my arm and pulled my sleeve up. He did the same with the other sleeve seconds later.

"You don't even have a mark on your skinny little bitch arms. I think you're trying to set me up." I heard the gun click and threw up my hands again.

"I'm seriously not! You have to believe me."

"Bull shit."

"Dude. I'm desperate." I took in a deep breath, trying my best to keep the fact that I was shaking like a leaf hidden. "My girlfriend is going to kick my ass if she comes back and finds out her 'stash' or whatever the hell she calls it is gone." I paused, hoping that he'd bought it. Judging by the fact that my head was still in-tact, I figured he had. "I don't know how this stuff works. I have no idea what the hell I'm doing, but I need to get this stuff back to our place fast or I'm dead."

"You're a really fucking stupid kid." He stood still and silent again. I shifted uncomfortably for a while, wishing he'd put his gun away. "I've got some business to tend to in about ten minutes, but I'm going to help you out. How much do you need?"

"Um."

"You've got to be shitting me. You don't know?"

"It was... Um like, this much." I motioned with my hands.

"Fucking idiot."

"It was in a bag."

"Then you need a bag."

"Oh, I didn't bring one with me. Should I go buy one?" Apparently I'd asked the wrong question. I saw his jaw drop.

"Just follow me."

"Okay." I lowered my head and followed after him. He opened up a door covered in wood planks and motioned for me to go in.

"Is your girlfriend that scary?"

"You have no idea, man." He laughed and dropped a bag onto the ground.

"I'm going to give you a dime bag and you're going to give me three hundred."

"Is that heroin?"

"Yes, dumbass." As he sorted through his bag, the lights shut off. "What the fuck?" I shut my eyes and listened to the barely audible movement that started behind me and finished behind the dealer. There was a loud thud then a softer thud. After that was silence.

"Oh, I didn't bring one with me. Should I go buy one?" Mysterion mimicked my earlier question before bursting into laughter. "You're fucking brilliant, dude." I jumped when I felt an arm wrap around my shoulder. I relaxed when I knew it was Mysterion.

"Is it over?" I asked, more than happy to have him by my side.

"Yeah, dude. You nailed it. The police are going to be here in about five minutes to bust the already busted drug deal."

"That's great! So what do we do now?" I didn't move until I felt him move.

"We go home."

Mysterion kept his arm around my shoulder and guided me out the door and into one of the few back alleys of South Park.

"You're shaking." He commented. "What happened to your big talk, huh?" Before I could say anything else, he pulled me closer and laughed.

"Shut up!" Despite that, I was still smiling. While the two of us walked back to my place, I was practically floating on a sea of adrenaline.

"How are you holding up?" Mysterion stopped a block from my house and leaned against the wall.

"I'm fine, dude."

"Are you sure?" The moon reflected in his bright blue eyes. The only thing that shone more clearly was his concern.

"You're acting like I did something more than playing decoy. You were there the whole time ready to jump in if something went wrong. I should be the one asking you if you're all right." When he refused to look away, I was the one to avert my eyes.

"I'll always be fine." Mysterion spoke after a long silence. I looked up and met his eyes again. He didn't say anything more, he just grabbed my hand and stood quietly longer. I felt all the blood in my body rush to my face. His smile broadened. "Let's get going. We've got homework to do after all."

'Yeah." I lowered my head, smiling from ear to ear.

**A/N: Yuck. That felt rushed and void of emotion. I shake my fist at this chapter. I swear I'll get to a higher quality of writing as soon as humanly possible. All the same, I hope you guys liked the chapter and are looking forward to the next one! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I have been trying to get the events for this story straight and I think I have finally done that. I know where I want to go with this fic and have a feeling that I will be able to end it by chapter 10, 15 at the longest. I hope you guys will enjoy the ride!**

**I do not own South Park or any characters. **

"Don't move." The words chilled me to the bone. I felt my body tense, ready to bolt, but knew better than that.

"That was really fucking stupid, Kyle." Kenny watched from the doorway, able to escape if he needed to.

"How many are there?" I asked, trying to keep my voice quiet to avoid upsetting them.

"At least ten." Stan answered, make-shift fly swatter in hand.

"Holy shit." I wanted to puke. Stan tried to make the sympathy in his expression outweigh the terror, but he was not doing a good job of it. "What do I do?"

"I don't know, dude! What the hell were you thinking?"

"The kids said there was a bug!" I whisper-shouted.

"And now you've got a wasp swarm ready to tear your fucking head off if you move." Kenny rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "What the hell are you doing, Stan?" Kenny asked when Stan lifted the rolled up notebook.

"I'm going to try to smash them."

"Dude!" I would've stepped back had there not been more wasps crawling on the window.

"Well what else am I supposed to do? At least I'm trying!" Stan shouted, defensive. Apparently his tone upset the wasps. The hum of the evil little bastards grew louder.

"I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die." At least the last time I thought I was going to die, it was in a somewhat cooler situation.

"Take your shirt off." Kenny instructed, eying a wasp crawling upside down on the ceiling like a little fucking exorcist girl.

"Now's not the time, Kenny." Stan held the notebook like a baseball bat.

"To get the wasps off, idiot." A wasp dive-bombed Kenny. With quick ease, he smashed it with his coat. I tried to slide my shirt off without upsetting the wasps. "Oh fuck."

"What?" I asked, fearing the worst.

"Just run!" Stan shouted.

"Where?" I asked, already chasing after him and Kenny.

"The pool!" Stan answered, turning a corner. The wasps chased us out of the room. I had already been stung multiple times by that point.

"Shit shit shit shit shit!" Kenny yelled, throwing open the pool doors.

"Holy fuck! They're everywhere!" Stan caught the door with one hand and batted off another wasp with the other. The three of us pushed past the students and gym teacher and leaped into the pool, finally dispelling our pursuers.

"Are you alright, dude?" Stan asked the moment I pulled my head up from beneath the water.

"I think I swallowed it."

"A wasp?"

"Yeah." I put a hand to my throat, almost thinking that I might be able to feel the demon buzzing around in there. Around us, the rest of the class was jumping into the pool. A few ran to the locker rooms.

"Sick." Kenny made a face.

"It was fuzzy." I ducked my head under the water when a few wasps buzzed by my head. The chlorine made the stings burn.

"That was intense." Stan stretched his arms above his head and sunk under the water, grinning.

"What the hell did you boys do this time?" The girls' gym teacher asked in a near scream as she waded toward us.

"Kyle broke a wasp nest trying to play hero." Kenny answered, eyes fixated on the woman's chest. He looked away after a while, disappointed.

"What?"

"The kids that came to see the play said they saw a bug and asked me to kill it." I explained. "There was a wasp nest in the auditorium."

"Isn't that just perfect." She rolled her eyes, apparently deciding that the three of us were exempt from her wrath.

"You think they're going to let us out early?" Stan asked, hopeful.

"Not a chance in hell, Marsh." The woman answered and waded away.

"Damn."

An announcement was made putting the school on lock down until the wasps were killed. Every so often, there was the sound of a student or staff member shrieking. Either they had been unfortunate enough to be part of the extermination squad or they had been in the bathroom when the announcement was made.

Stan was elected to be the wasp exterminator of the pool. I had been deemed useless, my dozen plus stings being the evidence. Kenny had been deemed a danger to the females in the class and was not given permission to move around the pool with liberty. A few of the girls joined in on the efforts to kill the wasps, or impress Stan, whichever. Kenny and I held onto the side of the pool and threw our shoes onto the deck. Kenny swam to where I was.

"Where'd you get stung?" He asked and pulled the back of my shirt down a bit. "Shit. That looks nasty." He pressed two fingers on top of one of the stings. I bit my lip, distracted by the change in his demeanor. He had adopted the air of authority that he very rarely wore without his mask. I saw concentration on his expression and grew more distracted by the closeness.

"It's fine. I've been stung before."

"Hm." Kenny readjusted my shirt and drifted backwards. "Better to check. Karen's allergic to those fuckers hardcore."

"That blows."

"Yeah." Kenny pointed to a spot on the wall behind him. "Hey Stan, you missed one."

"No fair!" One of the girls shouted as Stan smashed it with far more force than needed.

"And that puts me in the lead." Stan crossed his arms over his chest, victorious.

Eventually, the lock down ended and everyone was instructed to return to their classes. Kenny, Stan, and I climbed out of the pool and found our still sopping shoes.

"So uh, one of you have a change of clothes?" Kenny asked.

"Nope." Stan shook his head.

"Me either."

"Shit." The three of us exchanged looks. Flabbergasted, the gym teacher came to our rescue.

"Go to the lost and found and get a change of clothes from there. I'll pretend I think you three will wash and return them."

"Thanks, Erika!" Kenny flashed her a smile and was off before she could scold him for using her first name.

"Okay, someone's wearing this." Stan proclaimed as he held up a low-cut shirt with the words "juicy" written in bright, bubble letters across the chest. "Oh my God. I found a mini skirt." Stan picked it out of the pile. "Awh man, it's shorts. I wanted to see Wendy's face when I walked into music theory wearing a mini skirt."

"Who the hell does this belong to?" I asked as I lifted a brightly colored Christmas sweater from the pile. "It... lights up."

"Kyle, if you don't wear that, we can't be friends." Stan's eyes were puffy from tears. More than once, he'd laughed himself to the point of crying. Kenny and I were both there with him. The woman at the front desk seemed amused by our comments, so she had yet to shush us.

"Hand me the shorts." Kenny held out his hand. Stan and I burst into laughter as he walked behind the coat rack to try them on.

"You can't be serious, dude!" Stan was clutching the table, beside himself with laughter. Kenny's answer was emerging from behind the coat rack with the shorts proudly donned.

"Now hand me the shirt." Unable to speak, I tossed Kenny the "juicy" shirt. He stripped off his soaked shirt and posed. "How do I look?"

"Smoking hot, dude." Stan gave a thumbs up.

"If only I had Kyle's ass." Kenny sighed and returned to the table. "Time for accessories."

"Stan, it's a cheerleading shirt." It had been inside out. "Regionals, 2011."

"Fuck yes." Stan took the shirt. "The only pants I can fit into are these gym shorts with the suspicious stain. If you guys find anything, hand it to me." Immediately, Kenny handed Stan a skirt. Stan laughed and made a motion to put it back down.

"You said you wanted to wear one." I said.

"Yeah dude. Don't wimp out on us now." Kenny added. This sent the woman at the front desk into hysterics.

"Boys, that might just go against the dress code."

"Oh no, I've seen girls wear things much shorter." Kenny answered. The woman laughed again and took her seat. Stan shook his head and walked behind the coat rack. Seconds later, there was a loud tearing noise. Sheepishly, Stan walked out from behind the rack. The skirt had not made it past his quads.

"You'll never be on the top of the pyramid now." Kenny feigned sympathy. Stan changed back into his wet jeans and resumed his searching.

"Kyle." Stan tossed me a bra. I caught it, not knowing what it was at first.

"You think it's my size?" I asked and held it up. It was the same beige color that any large bra size was.

"It might be a bit small, but it's the best you'll do." Stan answered.

By the end of our search through the lost and found, Stan was wearing overalls, a cheerleading shirt, and a wool scarf that clashed worse than the flip flops. Kenny was wearing short shorts, a pink "juicy" t-shirt, and slippers. I was wearing a Christmas sweater, yoga pants, and high heels.

"What the fuck did we do that for?" Stan asked as we walked to the cafeteria.

"It's better than history."

"Speak for yourselves. I get to sit next to Jenna and her rocking tits."

"Dude! She has a girlfriend!" Stan exclaimed. Kenny laughed.

"How you doing in high heels, Kyle?"

"I'm going to break my legs, but it's kind of nice to be taller than Stan for a change."

"Dude, I've still got an inch on you." Stan stopped me to stand back-to-back. "Right, Kenny?"

"I'd say two inches."

"Come on! You're full of shit."

"Nah, you're just short, dude." Kenny put his elbow on my head to emphasize his point. With the added height of the heels, it was hard to do.

"Fuck off." I shoved him but tripped, falling flat on my face. Stan and Kenny both helped me to my feet, laughing loudly as they did.

"Hey! Cartman!" Stan shouted. "What the hell was that back there? We could've used your help." Cartman looked at the three of us, scoffed, and set a hand on his hip.

"Sorry, fags, I can't take you seriously right now." He walked toward our usual table. "Nice look, Kenny. It suits you."

"Here." Kenny tossed him the beige bra. "We didn't want to leave you out."

"I hate you guys."

There was no doubt about it, that had been one of the best days I'd had in a while. By the time the day ended, all of us were sorry it was over. Any time Stan, Kenny, and I were walking down the hall, we'd wind up getting stopped for a picture or two. It was hilarious. My feet were killing me, but it was totally worth it.

"Kyle?" Ike's voice interrupted my homework.

"Yeah?"

"I just... Why the hell were you wearing high heels?" Ike asked, incredulous. I burst into laughter. Already, pictures had begun to invade Facebook. "Dude, that's so gay."

"Did you see Stan and Kenny?" I asked in pretended defense.

"You're all gay." Ike proclaimed and left the room. I smiled to myself and shut my door with my foot. It was almost midnight. Ike and I were the last ones awake and, judging by the appearance of my pajama-clad brother, he was on his way to bed.

After finishing my work, I opened up my computer and logged onto my Facebook. Sure enough, my news feed had at least three pictures of the three of us. I clicked onto one of them and read the comments. At least a dozen girls had posted some lewd comment about Kenny. I knew that, if Kenny wanted to, he could probably sleep with any of those girls if he hadn't already. Tonight, that irked me. It was like those girls thought they had a right to his attention, that they could make some comment about him and that was enough to earn them intimacy with him.

A hand brushed my shoulder.

"You look upset." I shut my laptop as if the content would reveal my thoughts that, for some reason, I felt needed to be kept private.

"Mysterion." I turned around, coming face-to-face with him. Blonde hair poked out from beneath his hood.

"Are you busy?" He asked, taking his hand from my shoulder. I rose to my feet quickly.

"Not at all!"

"Cool. Would you mind if I crashed here for a while then?" He asked and took his mask off. Dark circles were visible under his eyes even in the dim light of my room.

"For sure, man. You look like hell."

"I'm beat." He took off the rest of the costume and kicked it under my bed.

"You want something to drink or eat?" I asked, refraining from folding his clothes and putting them away somewhere safer.

"Nah. Mind if I take this?" He asked and lifted a pillow.

"You can sleep on the bed, dude."

"It's your house. I'm not going to be some rude fuck and make you sleep on the floor."

"I'll be up for a while. I'll kick you off the bed when I go to sleep."

"You sure?" He asked through a long yawn as he threw himself face-first onto the bed.

"Totally. What were you doing out there? It's nearly two."

"Saving the world." His voice was muffled. I laughed.

"Ah."

"There's some freak show out there after girls. I wanted to catch him. I almost had him, but I couldn't leave the woman he targeted by herself. He'd knocked her around pretty badly."

"Is she alright?"

"Yeah. Nothing serious. I stopped the dick wad before he could do much of anything."

"That's good." I looked him over to make sure that he didn't have any marks on him. He did. I sighed, but did not do anything more.

"Make sure to get me up when you go to bed." Kenny spoke after a long period of silence.

"Right." I pulled clean pajamas from my door and left for the bathroom. It felt strange to leave knowing that Kenny was in my room, but it wasn't like I could just stand there and look at him.

I took as long as possible in the shower, trying to figure out what I was supposed to do about Kenny. I didn't want to wake him up, but he'd told me to. I was fine sleeping on the floor, but if I set up any blankets on the floor, he'd know that I had specifically decided to not listen to him. I could sleep on the bed next to him, but that idea made me too nervous to stand straight.

The hot water had run out long before I got out of the shower, but at least I'd figured out what to do. I left my pajamas folded on the sink, put on the same clothes, hung my towel, and returned to my room. When I got there, I sat in my desk, opened a book, and crossed my arms under my head. I knew I was not going to sleep well, but I knew that I would not have to make a decision on kicking Kenny out of my bed or not. It took a while, but I did fall asleep.

When I woke up, I was in my bed and the sun was glaring through my blinds.

"Good morning, sunshine." Kenny sat at the foot of my bed, wearing one of my oversized t-shirts. Immediately, I was confused.

"Good morning." I sat up and looked at the clock. It was nearly ten.

"Oops." Kenny noticed my alarm and looked at the clock. "Looks like the alarm never went off."

"But..." I knew I had set it before going to bed. I always did. Except I hadn't gone to sleep in my bed. I blinked a few times, wondering how I had managed to get into bed.

"So does reading books upside down help with memory retention? Or is it just something you do?" Kenny asked, a knowing smirk on his face.

"It must've-"

"I'm sure." Kenny lay backwards, stretching. "Thanks for letting me crash here."

"Yeah. Not a problem."

"I turned your alarm off. It's a school holiday."

"Oh."

"You think anyone would mind if I jumped in the shower?"

"I don't think so."

"Sweet." Kenny dropped onto his feet and made his way to the bathroom.

I sat up and looked around. It had not taken me long to figure out how I'd gotten into bed. Guilt swept over me. Kenny had figured out and wound up sleeping on the floor. I sighed and pushed the blankets off me. There were no blankets on the floor, though. And the side of the bed I hadn't slept on was still indented with the print of a body.

Kenny and I had slept in the same bed and I had slept through the whole thing.

Not that there was any reason something like that would be important. Stan and I had slept in the same bed lots of times growing up. We slept over at each other's houses all the time, especially when we were younger. I stopped doing that when he and Wendy got serious. I didn't want to sleep on a bed that had probably been used for... purposes not directly related to sleeping...

"Hey Kyle!" Kenny called from the bathroom.

"Yeah?"

"Where do you keep your towels?"

"My closet. I'll bring you one."

"Thanks, dude!"

"Yep!" I grabbed a clean towel from my closet and brought it to the bathroom. "Here." I opened the door as little as possible to stick my hand through. I shut the door as soon as he took it.

"You're the best." He opened the door, dressed in nothing but a towel. I turned away, flushed red.

**A/N: Sorry that this chapter pretty much didn't have any Mysterion in it at all. Or any action, for that matter. Consider this chapter to be the calm before the storm. In the next chapter, things are going to get bigger in terms of action and the K2. Hopefully it will be good! Thank you for reading. **


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